


Prologue to a Journey

by CrunchySalad



Series: Yuletide 2011 [3]
Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey
Genre: F/M, Yuletide 2011, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 13:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrunchySalad/pseuds/CrunchySalad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A black hole appears in Antarctica and grows day by day, consuming everything in its path. Russian scientist Zelenin is invited on a U.N. expedition into the hole. She accepts, though not without concerns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prologue to a Journey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [estamir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estamir/gifts).



First Lieutenant Zelenin was unequal parts concerned, surprised, and amused by the situation she now found herself in. Just one month ago she was fluttering about the edges of Antartica measuring icebergs and developing technology to predict changes in global climate. Now she was. . . well, back on the edges of Antartica, but this time as part of a research team that the United Nations had put together with uncharacteristic swiftness and efficiency. A research team led by an ex-boyfriend, of all people, which was where her current feeling of amusement came from. The feeling was, fortunately or not, overshadowed by the looming threat they were all facing.

A void had appeared over the South Pole. Zelenin remembered when it was first sighted. First strange reports had come in from other research teams in Antartica, describing something Zelenin felt belonged more in myths than in real life. Some kind of black nothingness spreading over the land. Satellite images, however, confirmed the reports, showing a pitch black circle where there should have been white and blue. And then, something that brought home the reality of the situation: whole bases, close to the void, simply disappeared overnight, their radio channels buzzing nothing but static.

The void, officially named the Schwarzwelt, was growing at an exponential rate, consuming everything in its path. Day by day a little bit more of the world disappeared into the unseen bowels of this ever-hungry darkness. A preliminary research team was sent to investigate. U.N. member countries met to determine what to do. Technology was developed to actually travel inside the void, a feat that could only be described as fantastically impressive.

There was some talk of evacuation, but it was decided that their base was distant enough that they were safe for then. Zelenin and other members of her team had spent every spare minute in the common room, waiting in case any news of the void came through. News was scarce, though; after the initial reports, there was much government activity to keep any information from spreading. As far as Zelenin knew, the general population was being told that the anomaly was some kind of ferro-magnetic blizzard.

And then a phone call: upon the recommendation of one Commander Gore, leader of the newly created and currently forming Schwarzwelt Investigation Team, the U.N. wanted to invite Zelenin on board one of the four ships being sent into the Schawrzwelt. They made sure to stress that the technology was unproven, that it would be dangerous, and that her safety was not, by any stretch of the imagination, guaranteed. Zelenin had jumped at the chance. The ability to study such an otherworldly anomaly was too appealing, and the risk the threat presented to all of humanity if no action was undertaken was too great. Scientific curiosity and a strong sense of duty made sure that Zelenin would not turn down the invitation.

As soon as she said yes she was on a plane back to Russia to prepare in the short amount of time that she had. She explained things to her proud but worried mother, careful to keep certain things secret and mitigate the danger the mission would entail. There was no need to make her mother worry more than she already was. She got her affairs in order, had a nice dinner with her family, and spent a few hours her last evening in her childhood church two blocks away. It was comforting to be inside those hallowed walls. She had come here weekly with her mother as a youth, had come to pray and take in services that she had always found soothing. Maybe it was mere childhood nostalgia that made the church so inviting; or maybe it was something else.

That night she sat there in silence on the hard stone pews in the church. She grasped her grandmother's gold cross in her hand and watched as the setting sun played a puppet show on the sequence of saints painted on the walls. She didn't pray; although she believed in some kind of God, she didn't necessarily believe that He was listening or even watching.

That night Zelenin took particular comfort in the sheer age of the structure around her. The church had stood for centuries. Surely, it wouldn't just disappear in some strange black nothingness. Surely, the Schwarzwelt wouldn't consume the whole world.

The next day she left to go back. She was flown in on a Lockheed C-5 with a handful of other people and a massive amount of equipment; they landed in a U.S. station, on a runway built out of sea-ice. Ross Island. At the moment it was a part of Antartica, thanks to the ice sheets that connected them during the summer season. Gore was there as well, but they had the briefest of exchanges.

"You look as beautiful as ever," he said, looking almost as handsome as he had been when they had dated. A little bit older. No, a lot older. His high-ranking military position had aged him in the way that any position of power tended to do, in the same way that Presidents of the Russian Federation left their one or two terms aged by decades.

Zelenin smiled. "When you say it in such a perfunctory way, it makes me think that you don't mean it."

"I'm sorry," he replied, "I would stop to chat, but I need to meet with my lawyers."

"Of course. Every thing's done through lawyers these days, isn't it? Wouldn't want to end up in any international court."

The short exchange left her so very tired. After he left she was shepherded to a Snow Cat that was to take her to the base the U.N. had set up. As it drove over the ice she watched as the winds started to pick up, pulling snow up off the ground and blowing it through the air. So she really was back. Back to harsh ice and snow covered landscapes, back to a sky so full of blowing snow that it was sometimes hard to see anything but white in front of her. By the end of her relationship with Gore, she thought, this is what it had felt like. Like there was an icy tundra between them, and they couldn't see past the snow to one another.

Sometimes she wondered what had gone wrong between them. Their relationship had grown from mutual respect and shared interests. It had been passionate, at first, in the way that new relationships between the young nearly always were. But somewhere along the line, it had just. . . stopped working. Had she been too unsupportive when it came to his military career and political ambitions? Had he been too demanding? Perhaps they had both been too selfish. And then, just like that, it had been over.

Before him, she had thought love was all two people needed. But she had learned that relationships were largely logistical endeavours; it's just that it was emotions and lives that had to be moved and maintained, not troops and supplies.

Upon arrival at the base she was rushed to a briefing, where other members of the expedition were already gathered and waiting for her to began. An explanation of their goals and discussion of the technologies they would use was given. Strange, inexplicable footage that was, supposedly, from the inside of the Schwarzwelt was shown. Footage of a battlefield, a shopping mall, a red light district. It had to be, many of them concluded, a mistake. Which meant they still had no notion of what was waiting for them inside of there.

The meeting took the better part of the day. Afterward Zelenin ate alone in the mess hall, reading over the dossier they had each been given as she ate some watered down version of borscht. Then she went to her room, feeling somewhat fortunate that there was an odd number of women on the base. As the last one to have arrived, she had a room to herself for now. She was getting ready for bed when there was an unexpected knock on her door.

Of course, there was only one person it could be at this time in the evening. So Zelenin wasn't very surprised to open the door to see Gore standing there. For awhile they just stood there, staring at each other, neither knowing what to say. After awhile Zelenin started to feel distinctly awkward, especially since she was standing there dressed in the unflattering, slate-colored long underwear she was planning to sleep in.

"How are your quarters?" Gore finally asked.

Zelenin spared a quick glance over the grey, spartan room. It was exactly as she would have expected: serviceable. "Perfectly fine."

And again, silence. Zelenin chewed on her lip. Gore cleared his throat.

"Any concerns about the mission?" he asked.

Zelenin shook her head. Then changed her mind and nodded instead. She gave a small, humorless chuckle. "Lots. But nothing I can do anything about."

Gore nodded, understanding. "We only have sixty more hours. Do your best to get acquainted with the technology and with your fellow crew members. It may well be the difference between success and failure. Have you read their bios?"

Zelenin nodded. "I do admit I found some of your choices. . . interesting."

"It wasn't me making the decisions," Gore said, with his usual curtness. "But please go on. I'll do my best to assuage your concerns."

"The Japanese-American marine on your ship," Zelenin went on. "The one who is to be second-in-command to you. He's a bit young for that kind of responsibility."

"Young but more than competent," Gore said. "He received the position entirely on merits. I can think of no one more qualified to take over if something were to happen to me."

The possibility of Gore's "something" hung heavy in the air. For a little bit Zelenin couldn't bring herself to speak. Danger could be such an abstract thing, but Gore's practical acceptance of it made it feel so real. Zelenin's hand clenched around her grandmother's cross, currently hanging around her neck. For some reason she felt a sense of foreboding at that moment, though she soon dismissed it as nerves.

"And the other American, the ex-soldier," Zelenin went on. "He works for Blackwater, doesn't he?"

"He did," Gore said. "We can hardly discriminate against someone so qualified, no matter what your personal feelings about the organization he was affiliated with are."

Zelenin frowned at the answer but couldn't very well say anything in response. There was nothing she could do about it, and besides, the ex-soldier in question wasn't on her ship so she wouldn't have to deal with him. "Of course."

Gore's eyes landed on the hand wrapped around Zelenin's cross, and he smiled for the first time that night. "I see you still have that habit. Is your faith really so comforting?"

"You know it is," Zelenin answered, with a smile of her own.

It had always been a source of amusement to their mutual friends. That it was the military brat, in a military where most servicemen were some kind of Christian, who was the atheist, and that it was the scientist who believed in God and church. It was an idea that offended Zelenin a bit; the idea that religion was something for the ignorant masses to cling to, and not for the enlightened scientific mind.

"The more I study this world," Zelenin said, wonder clear in her voice, "the more awe-inspiring it seems. The symmetry and beauty of the world around us, the fact that so much of the natural world can be expressed using neat equations and formulae. . . is it so far-fetched to think that those things were set in motion by some higher power?"

"You make God sound like an artist and a scientist," Gore said, though he sounded amused by Zelenin's words.

"Perhaps He is," Zelenin answered.

"Well," Gore continued, "let's hope that God and our guardian angels will be watching over us in Schwarzwelt."

Zelenin laughed at the statement. "While I have no problem reconciling my religion with science, I draw the line at things like divine interference and angels. Some things are better thought of as fiction."

"Of course," Gore replied, his smile warm and familiar.

Zelenin loosened her grip on the cross. Then she moved her hand to the clasp at the back of her neck. She undid the chain, than held it out, depositing the slip of gold into Gore's hand.

"Even if it doesn't give you faith," she said, "perhaps it can give you luck."

Gore's large fingers curled around the chain and cross, but not all the way. They were ginger in their movements. As though the metal was some delicate piece of spun glass.

"Thank you," he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Zelenin nodded. She thought she might feel bereft without her grandmother's cross. Instead, it was almost a comfort to see Gore with it.

"I'm sorry I don't have anything of equal importance to give to you," Gore said.

"Don't worry about that," Zelenin said with a shake of her head. "I didn't give it to you to get something back in return. Besides, I'm only letting you borrow it. You'll have to give it back at the end of the mission."

Gore nodded. "I will. I promise."

With those four words, said with such confidence, Zelenin felt something like a sigh spread through her body. But instead of discharging air, her body seemed to be discharging all the worries she had been keeping within her. Now she felt relief. She felt calm. They would all be okay. They would make it through this mission because Gore had to give her back her necklace at the end of it.

"I should go," Gore finally said. "I just wanted to come to. . . well, I just wanted to tell you to be safe. I almost didn't recommend you, Zelenin, because I didn't want to put you into this kind of dangerous situation. But I thought if anyone could figure out this problem, it would be you."

"I'm glad you did recommend me," Zelenin replied.

Gore nodded. "Good night, Zelenin."

"Good night."

After Gore left, Zelenin shut the door and turned off the light. She curled up on her cot, underneath the thick blankets, and closed her eyes. Sixty hours. Sixty hours until they would be in Schwarzwelt, the supposed land of battlefields, shopping malls, and red light districts. There was no doubt that their mission was a dangerous one, but Zelenin was ready.

They would all be okay. The world would be okay. With that mantra repeating in her head, Zelenin drifted off to sleep.


End file.
